Setting The Fires
by Into-The-Fire5
Summary: Another pickup from Alexandria's Safe Zone proves another tension filled meeting between the two leaders, where Negan shares heated information about Michonne that rattles Rick deeply. {Sexual Content. Cheating Warning} Season 7 Oneshot


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Unhinged laughter ricocheted within the truck as another walker roaming the road collided with a hard thud of the hood, the impact rattling the inside as sickly entrails and oozing blood splattered across the windscreen and part of the window on his side. Catching rapid movement of the wipers streaking away the rotten remains, he peered over. Lucky as fuck for them the vehicle was modified, otherwise he'd be inclined to advise them to knock it off or make their asses there on foot.

As their several military trucks drove upon the dusty road, the scenery was unusually still. Barely any trace of life around them at all, the odd walker aside. His men however, appeared poised, while Dwight remained his usual withdrawn self, staring out the window in the back, arm perched on his knee, spaced out in whatever world he was in. He paid it no further heed though.

Dragging a hand down his features, Negan's attention heavily focused on the long, winding road ahead, unable to hide a forming sneer as he whirled with anticipation approaching Alexandria. Things were settling smoothly back into motion with their reformed cooperation. And it began to get interesting. Unlike shit in a long time, there was a whole new array of survivors in their group that intrigued him differently. People he could also utilize to their potential. Rick, his badass of a son and precious baby daughter, the redneck - Daryl, or somethin' like that - the squirmy looking padre and Rick's girl wielding the sword. Michonne. Ohh, he'd remembered her. Vividly.

Now there was a topic. Negan's continued interest in _her_ tipped the damn scale weeks ago when they'd clashed, bloodied and bruised as each other, before it had overturned to the woman riding his dick like it was her last day living. It's always common conjecture that, that kind of hatred made people do the craziest shit, messing up their moral sense of right and wrong. He was no stranger to that, particularly back at the Sanctuary. Consequently, he'd allowed a window of opportunity for her to flee with the supplies she'd swiped following their heated romp.

But it was just too good, to hold something like _that_ over ol Grimes.

The Saviour roughed at his scruff as the Safe Zone's high walls appeared over the horizon. Climbing out with slight rocks of the truck, he signalled his men to follow and keep close. Negan waltzed up to the familiar gates and tapped Lucille against the steel bars once more, letting the reverberations fade to nothing before his proud, booming voice reached passing ears.

"Little pig, little pig. Big bad wolf is back!" He proclaimed, chuckling to himself.

.

* * *

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**One Week Ago**

Tending to the simple task of laundry settled her mind for a moment, piling the various fabrics into a large, wicker basket. It was far from her usual day's work, but it had reminded her of past life. A time with family. Upon wandering back to her home, Michonne gripped the handles tightly. Heavy, like the weight on her mind and even her heart.

Rhythmic clopping of hooves approaching from the other side of the gates lifted Michonne's eyes that had been trained to the ground. People were returning from their venture. Another last, desperate attempt to scavenge anything they could find.

Observing the horses being led to the stables sparked an idea. If she held more nerve, she'd continue hiding supplies and weapons beyond the walls like Rick once had in case Alexandria had gone south and there was no reasoning with their people. Michonne had scolded him then, but suddenly it didn't seem like such a bad idea now, though Deanna and her people were just naive and inexperienced, unlike Negan and his followers who were another end of the spectrum. Michonne missed the strong-willed, optimistic woman but was glad she didn't have to deal with any of this. This world was much, much crueler than Deanna knew.

Their so called visitors were to arrive when the sun rose to its highest at noon. Negan had somehow broke the camel's back, as Rick begrudgingly agreed to continue their arrangement when things progressed from bad to worse. Alexandria was back under his thumb. For now.

Stepping up the porch and entering their home, Michonne set down the basket of clean, crisp laundry to the floor and peered over her shoulder at her love. He pondered through the window behind ornate curtains, staring out at his people working into the ground for this arrangement as well as their own survival.

Bile grew in her throat recalling Negan's last visit, everything they'd taken for their own and how she'd barely scrambled away with the supplies she was adamant to store away in hiding. He wouldn't be as forgiving a second time. Nor did she want to think about what had happened to accomplish it, but it already began festering itself. Before the sickly swirl of shame could grow, Rick spoke up with a jerk of his head.

"It's already been a week." He mumbled, hand on his holster.

There was a moment of silence before she turned to face him. "Rick. You know we can't keep this up." Michonne sighed, folding her arms.

Rick nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"Supposedly doing this for the rest of our lives? Everything we've been through to get where we are, this isn't what we fought for. Not when we were starting to make something for ourselves here." She kept her tone calm despite the frustration prickling at her. "This isn't it."

"You're right. I know that. For now, until we can figure something out and we will, we just have to do as he says. I don't wanna lose anyone else. Not you, Carl or Judith. But I know it can't go on."

She felt the exhaustion and despondence mirror in his voice, but there was an anger simmering under his skin at their situation. Rick wanted to strike back, she knew that, the last thing he wanted to do was continue complying like this, seeing his family suffer in consequence for the impulsive decision in beginning a campaign to wipe out the Saviours and their leader. Back before they knew the extent of their actions, discovered just how outnumbered they all were. More gravely, how it had cost Glenn and Abraham. For the sake of his own people, Rick wouldn't do anything rash. They needed a plan. A well-executed plan.

Giving Michonne a soft, apologetic look, he reached out for her hand and she brushed her own against his affectionately. They would make it through this, they always did. Barely smiling wanly, Rick turned to leave, dragging his feet while time dragged of the inevitable.

Carl and Judith were in the company of Olivia further down the road. She was always very good with them and very kind. Solemnly putting away her books, for a single moment, Michonne swore to have heard something stirring outside. Surely it wasn't.. not for another couple hours.

Suddenly, every nerve in her body seized on end as loud telltale whistles of a familiar tune shattered the silence, directly approaching the house and stilling right on the front porch. Michonne remembered too late of the wide open door. _Oh God, no._

Sensing the delight creep across the intruder's face, her jaw locked. Turning to face the person she dreaded, he lightened and bit his lip as he mockingly knocked on the wooden frame. _Shit_. She'd hoped to sequester herself far out of the way, knowing it would take everything to restrain her malice within walking distance from the man attending and his people. The recalled sight of their supplies being taken, a mountain of piled, charred mattresses from before made her blood boil. But of course, _of course _he would arrive unexpectedly, sparing no one a moment to retreat elsewhere, especially herself. Somehow, she'd been cornered again. Only this time, there was something stifling the air, her presence clearly tantalising him and the inkling of motive she was getting made her skin crawl.

Michonne instinctively rose to a defensive position, cursing that her katana was otherwise present upstairs, propped and displayed on the wall. "Get out."

"Woah. Excuse the shit out of me, but is that how you people treat your guests?"

"You're not a guest." She spat within a beat, her brown eyes surveying him coolly. "The hell are you doing here?"

The Sanctuary's leader steps inside with all his hubris, slow and calculated treads of his heavy boots thudding on the laminate floor. As though it were his first time setting foot in this house, he inspects every object in passing. "What was your name, again?"

Michonne glowered in silence as he raised his brows in waiting for an answer. Hopefully he would lose interest and leave. His arrogance and impudence, even his breathing was somehow starting to irritate her.

"Why does it matter?"

"I make a point in knowing enough about the people that work for me. Trying to uphold some fucking sense of business front here. That's all it is."

The tense lines on her face persist, folding her arms. "Michonne."

"Michonne... Right. Yeah." Negan's shadowed eyes turn to slits as he settled his leering gaze on her. "Well, Michonne I was hopin' to come by and catch ya and boy, somebody outta be smilin' on me 'cos here you are. See I get sick of seeing that same old expression on that same old prick. As much as he's growin' on me, he looks pussified to shit and your people already seem pretty beat. While you, made some ballsy decisions. Messed me up pretty good. I like that. See I _know_ you're the other half running this place, so now I'm even more interested in you."

As he closed in, like a hawk she watched his every move while lifting her chin.

"Think we outta talk out some shit..." The man continued in his deep, smooth voice. "Reach an understanding that's lacking with ol Rick. You guys ain't sleeping on the same sheets, if you follow me."

"I'm not interested." Was all Michonne cared to say. "Take what you came for and go. And where's Rick?"

"Easy. He's in good hands. Left him overseeing our shares, while my man Dwight keeps a close eye on my darlin'." Negan sniffed, before tilting his head curiously. "Why? Hope it's not 'cos you're hiding more shit from me. That would not be cool." His tone suddenly pierced her directly.

"No. I'm not."

Predatory eyes rake her form, as though mentally dissecting her of her secrets before running a hand down his salty beard. "Look. I know this whole thing's been hard on you guys -"

Michonne scoffed harshly, jerking her head away. Sadistic bastard.

"Think of it this way if you gotta. A work around for what ya'll did to my people, which is still messed up to shit, by the way." Negan stilled, she could say he almost appeared sorrowful. "I lost good people too."

"Good people that prey on others? This _whole_ _thing_ is insane. How you use people through violent methods if they don't twist to your ways."

"That's what you think this is?"

She shook her head in disbelief. Clearly it was impossible reasoning and getting through to Negan this way. "You actually think you can keep pulling this off and expect nothing to happen." Michonne cracked a mocking smile.

"That sounds a lot like you're threatening me, sweetheart."

"Yeah? Take it however you want. But in the end, Negan, you're gonna end up with nothing. And you won't be prepared for when it happens."

An unsettling smirk formed on his lips then. The samurai's words sounded as though it came with promise. Now it left him intensely curious.

She, however, felt this talk was over. "Negan just - "

"You know, I always liked the way you say my name." He interrupts with a new spring of devious zest.

A tingle of heat suddenly resurfaced to her disdain. Before Michonne's mind could stop her, she moved to stand unbearably close with only burning emotions left to consume. She wasn't about to shrivel in his presence. "Leave. Now."

Meanwhile Negan's unblinking stare turned icy, taking in the woman's posture. "Sorry, doll. You don't seem to understand. When I leave here, it'll be with half of your shit. If you've gone stashed more somewhere else in whatever dark corner you got goin', sure as hell we'll find 'em and tear this place from the inside 'till we do. I got all damned day! But you gotta ask yourself, who's it worth _killing_?"

Faces of the fallen flash in images within her mind and the dam had finally cracked and crumbled. Michonne's adrenaline pulsed, incensed by his words as she lost composure and rose a fist to meet his face. To wipe away that overbearing pride she was sick of seeing. Only Negan had predicted so, that he caught her arm mid-swing in a tight hold.

"I wouldn't, sweetheart. We both know how this will end."

Thinking quickly, she grabs Negan's shoulder and plunges a knee into his gut, to which he bends in two and groans painfully. Pivoting on her heel, Michonne made to sprint upstairs for her bedroom. Her blade. Behind her she hears Negan recover with a raspy, disbelieving chuckle, frame shaking with mirth.

Reaching the lowest step, fast footfalls follow her, knowing her intentions as Negan once again snatches her arm and aggressively pulls her back with enough force she thought her bone was about to pop out of joint. He wraps arms around her middle tightly, hauling her struggling form away from the staircase. Michonne continued to squirm against his caging hold, kicking and thrashing her legs, knocking various objects to the floor with crashes and clutters. With a growl, the samurai tosses her head back until there was a resounding crack and grunt as she struck bone, regaining her feet to the ground.

But before Michonne could act, Negan latches onto her wrists and tosses her forward onto the back of the couch, restraining them behind her back.

"_Christ_. You try this on me _again_? I'd be pissed off, if I wasn't so fucking solid right now." The older man panted, squeezing the life out of her wrists for a moment. "Now I know you wanna get hits in again, break my jaw or some shit, but why don't we just skip that part, huh? Like I said, I got _all_ damned day."

"Get. The hell. Off me." Michonne's words dripped with venom, trying to ignore the lively beats of her chest and surging heat of her racing blood as a dull ache throbbed in her head from impact.

With the same roughness, Negan spins her round to face him, forcing her arms to her sides cautiously. The function of breathing halts the second they realise their proximity, stormy gazes darting low and boring back into each others. She knew, she saw the verve in his eyes.

Lips crash together heatedly as Negan lunges forward to shove his mouth upon hers, silencing any spitting remarks. He thrusts his tongue between her teeth, tasting every inch intrusively as he was to invade her home, and their community to claim what was his. The two parties were unwilling to yield. Michonne scowled and shoved back against him, almost devouring each other senseless as she broke free to thread fingers in his hair and grip as tightly as she was able.

Upon Negan's slip of a husky sigh, she suddenly broke away, shocked and disgusted for letting the kiss linger too long. Meeting the hungry stare, anger still lingered but there was a levity like Negan had already foreseen what was about to happen. With a loud huff, Michonne shoved hard at his chest, putting distance between them while panting harshly to catch their breaths. Why did this happen? How could this happen? She still held no desire to have any relation whatsoever, yet he was able to fuel vehement feelings like a chemical reaction. A dangerous game. She had shoved the Saviour away, but soon found herself swaying back in to wrench him forward by his leather jacket, conjoining their mouths again in a clash of teeth. A strong arm snaked around Michonne's waist and pulled her further into him with great force as their tongues continued to wrestle. They'd never kissed before and there was something entirely explosive about it.

Before Michonne knew, the moment became a blur as her willing body was spun and pressed into the couch again with her back arched, dark leggings and underwear pooling around her ankles. Mind racing, Negan shoves a hand between her thighs and glides fingers back and forth against her bare softness demanding attention. He aggressively nudges Michonne's legs further apart with his foot, startling her enough to grab the back of the furniture for support as he ground his straining hard-on against her teasingly.

"Hurry up and do it." She seethed in a shaky breath, returning the _favour_ with a roll of her hips, passing the point of no return.

A draft causing goosebumps on her skin averted her attention. The door was still wide open, not at all masking the scene playing out in her living room. Negan, had her shaking with such raw, salacious need over the same sofa she and Rick...

"Eager, huh? Shit, already a mess for me down there. You miss me darlin'?" He grins widely and enters her, earning a loud, quivering moan before further regret could seep in. She cursed to herself as her mind and body melted in this moment.

He wrapped a hand around her throat while Michonne reached back to claw into his thigh, determined to inflict pain. "…Bastard." What should've come out in a snarl, only announced her pleasure and impatience, before he began grunting with every hard, shallow penetration.

"Ohh, I'm gonna make sure you do. I'm gonna pound this little pussy again that was _made _for my dick." Negan growled as he pumped his hips vigorously, battering Michonne's silky body against the back of the couch as he ploughed deeply over and over… the familiar clicks of his loose belt filling her ears.

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* * *

.

Focusing on the cracked tarmac, neighbouring houses and replaying precious moments spent with his family, were the most effective ways for Rick Grimes to compose himself. If his mind needn't twist and torment in lamenting how many faces were now gone every time his eyes caught sight of the bat hanging closely at Negan's side. Looking up to find another arrogant jeer at their community since letting the leader inside, he may just fulfil the reckless desire to approach this like Daryl once had. Not today, not tomorrow…

"Holy crap. Running a ghost town Rick? Where are your people at?" Negan frowned curiously, glancing over at the man following as though on a leash.

Many had confined themselves to their homes and Negan wasn't one to overlook that, ensuring they were all practically accounted for. Otherwise shunning what the man had to say upon arriving, the next question snapped his attention back.

"What about your lady friend? Where she at?" A silence rang out as he stared straight through him blankly. Negan scoffed and came to a halt. "Come on. The one with the dreads, the sword, bigger scowl than you? Naw, you can't tell me that don't ring your bells."

Like the words hadn't reached him, the prick continued to gawk, jaw set and giving the same annoying stink eye that was gonna fucking stick if he wasn't careful. Negan shared a look with his men briefly, before stepping closer.

"Alright, asshole. Keep your damn secrets. Ohh, hold up. Except, I ain't gonna allow that, 'cos I don't like being kept in the dark, Rick, where a little snivellin' scheming goes on behind walls. Now, I sure hope it wouldn't come to that." His tone turned dangerously low, something jarring about the way he glared. "So do not make me have to ask again."

"She's on a hunt."

With a click of his tongue and sink of his shoulders, he turned away. "Shit.." He breathed.

Witnessing the disappointment, Rick frowned, slightly unnerved of his inquiry. Why? Did he suspect her? Had Michonne devised something without telling him and Negan figured it out? He was hard to read but he saw something reflected in his eyes and before Rick could open his tightly sealed lips, Negan barged his way through to the pantry, twirling Lucille proudly.

Another load of canned and jarred goods from the shelves was hauled outside, all while Negan loomed in the dark of the room, observing attentively. Things were looking scarce. From food, to the infirmary. Something was off.

"That all you got? What the fat lady eat all of your stock? 'Cos she ain't here." He joked flatly, picking up a small can and dropping it to the hard floor. With that, Negan nodded for everyone to get out. It was exhausting and irritating having to keep pushing answers out of Grimes. "Outta be frank with me Rick. Everybody likes frank. Why the hell is this all you got for me?"

Rick inhaled sharply. "We lost some of our own. They went on a run and never made it back. We've barely come back with anything since. Just us and the dead. Places were over-run or cleared - "

Sighing deeply, he pursed his lips in thought. "Shit. I am sorry... But that ain't my problem. It sure fucking sucks ass… I get that… people are always dyin'. And it's up to us to keep the _living_ surviving. That's what we do."

" - We just need more time." Rick's voice strained with malice.

Negan nodded with a sour expression, tossing another can to the floor as he waltzed away. The way he handled Lucille in agitation, Rick couldn't break contact, a sinking reminder of that fateful night. "That's not good enough, Rick. Deal is a damn deal, hitch or no hitch. You make it work! Jesus, ya'll got me riled up today, I'm about to spout off some shit."

"They died for _you, _to provide for _you_. Least you could do was give us a little more time." He bit before he could stop himself.

Negan turned to face him slowly, brows high on his head. It felt as though the lions den had been opened. "I did _not_ hear that. You didn't wanna get mixed up in all this? Tough shit. The game's changed. Nobody forced you to roll on up and pull the trigger! That's how it is and your guys see that! This is the way things are! And I could kill a bunch of your people right now but I won't, because they are valuable resources. Now you have pissed on my parade, so you wanna know somethin' else, prick?" He suddenly grinned devilishly, tightening his possessive grip on Lucille. "I been screwin' your girl."

Witnessing all colour drain from the other man's face like a punch to the gut, he kept pushing.

"_Michonne_. What can I say? Shit happens. Caught her trying to hide what I _specifically _stated to be handed over to my men. I wasn't gonna let that slide. She damn screwed me up and I ain't gonna lie, I found that hot as all hell. Then things took a _big_ turn, before I knew I was fucking orgasms into her. And man, did she beg me to do it again. Imagine that!"

A mortifying feeling rushed through him nauseatingly. Michonne had been visibly tense and short on the topic of Negan and their situation. He noticed. He knew her well by now to deduce something had been exchanged between the two, but never… No. Negan was lying through his teeth. He had to be.

And he only crept closer until the boundary of personal space had been tossed aside. "And the way she cums on my dick… God." He breathes, recalling details so vividly it made him shiver. "Hell of a lucky guy, Rick. Hell of a lucky guy. I'm about as close to asking her to come back with me as you are to shoving that knife in my throat. But I know you're not gonna do that, because you care about all these people." A slow, sadistic grin stretched across his lips.

The silence that lingered intensified. The rattling, fuming thoughts whirling in the man's head like a hurricane. Rick's mouth twitched in a visible snarl and his knuckles turned pale. Whether it was true, fabricated or not, he still saw red.

Negan daringly spoke up again.

"I'll leave you to suck that down. Get me, the rest of my shit, if you have _any _goddamn idea what will happen next. You remember that all this? Belongs to me, thanks to you. Now how's about we get outside, take a walk. Can't have 'em missing the great Rick Grimes."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Last of the gift ficlets goes to mcnegan who wrote 'Unbreakable', that I keep loving to read. I'm weak for this love triangle. Shocker, lol. And writing Negan being the biggest asshole during his arc is fun as hell ~ Another what if scenario. Almost feel bad for writing this. I'm sorryy... that these ficlets are only one shots as I wanted to pay homage to their original creators. So do check their stories out!


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